


think you’re funny, think you’re smart, think you’re gonna break my heart

by HaveYouSeenATimeLord



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Angst, Aromantic Character, Bisexuality, Canonical Character Death, Foreshadowing, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Introspection, M/M, Meta, Minor Character Death, Questioning, Spoilers for S1, kinda not really, literally just connor hooking up with people, yeah this started as meta and then turned into connor hooking up with every dude
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-04
Updated: 2015-02-04
Packaged: 2018-03-10 10:53:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3287600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HaveYouSeenATimeLord/pseuds/HaveYouSeenATimeLord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lies. Sex. Death. Lies. Sex. Death.</p>
<p>They repeated like a mantra in his head. They were the only things that made sense.</p>
<p>(or; the one where connor is aromantic and is angsty. and also has a lot of sex.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	think you’re funny, think you’re smart, think you’re gonna break my heart

**Author's Note:**

> i feel so hard for connor. aro connor is my child. he's so aro. (or greyro probs.)
> 
> i wrote this before i had finished all of s1p1, gomen. so assume it takes place before, the end takes place after. i also haven't seen anything after the hiatus bc rehearsal is killing me.
> 
> reference to pax's death, but not graphic. internalized arophobia??? if that's a thing??? basically connor is upset with himself for being aromantic.

                Connor honestly wondered how Annalise did it. How she seemed completely unaffected by her cases when almost all of them involved murder.

                Connor didn’t consider himself a weak person by any means. But even murder could make a man queasy. On their second case Connor had almost laughed when Professor Keating had asked Wes if he was going to be sick. She should’ve been asking Connor. And when he laid down on top of the bloodstained mattress, a single word kept repeating itself over and over again.

                Death.

                He at least managed to find the hottest guy from the advertising company. He felt only the smallest bit of guilt after he lied about working at the bank, but only a little.

                Connor had no problem with lying.

                He definitely had no problem with the sex.

#

                He wondered if it was possible that Oliver was hacking into his brain as well, making him feel all these _legitimate feelings_. Connor didn’t _do_ boyfriends, not since he discovered what aromanticism was and felt like he was lying to himself whenever he used the term “couple” to describe him and someone else. So he had stopped that, replacing dating with casual sex, and everything was better. People judge you less if you admit to being slutty than if you admit you can’t feel romantic attraction. He’d had countless men accuse him of “commitment issues” but he kept not telling Oliver. He was scared of what Oliver would say. No matter what Oliver would complain about Connor doing, Connor could never make the words “I’m aromantic” come out of his mouth.

                So he buried himself in his cases, kept lying, kept having sex, and kept avoiding death.

                Lies. Sex. Death. Lies. Sex. Death.

                They repeated like a mantra in his head. They were the only things that made sense.

                He knew that the lies connected to sex and death, but he never thought that sex and death would connect, until that _fucking_ personal assistant took a swan dive out of the window. In the cold part of his heart, Connor knew he hadn’t cared for Paxton (just as he had never truly cared about any of the men he had sex with), but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be upset at death.

                And suddenly Oliver was telling him to leave and Connor really should’ve spit the aro word out sooner because maybe they could’ve figured something out but instead he was standing in the hallway in his underwear and his mantra wasn’t helping him even though it was all still about lies, sex, death.

#

                When he had offered to show Asher what “eightisgreat” meant, it had been as a joke, because making straight boys uncomfortable was one of Connor’s favorite things. The look on Asher’s face had been priceless, too.

                The next night, they were celebrating the mistrial and everyone had gone home (drunk) except Connor and Asher (also drunk). Connor was about to open his mouth and say something like “Why are you still here, are your money filled pockets weighing you down?” when, from Asher’s corner, he heard a slurred “You still up for showing me what your username means?” and well, Connor wasn’t about to turn down free sex.

                Pretty soon they were on the rug (the rug that would later turn into lies and death) and Asher’s hot mouth was wrapped around Connor’s cock and Connor’s inner mantra faltered until it was one word, just _sex_ repeated over and over again.

                He pulled Asher up to meet his mouth and chuckled as the other man attempted to pull his pants off over his shoes. “You know, I’ve let a lot of straight boys experiment with me over the years, but not many have actually let me all the way in, if you know what I mean.”

                Asher flushed a deeper red than he already was. “’M not as straight as you think I am. Just ‘cuz I’ve only _dated_ girls doesn’t mean I haven’t _thought_ about guys.” And that was the end of _that_ conversation.

#

                “Don’t fucking lie to me, Gibbons,” Connor hissed at Wes as they stood in the latter’s flat, after Rebecca had stormed out. “You’re having sex with her, aren’t you?”

                “So what if I am, huh? It’s none of your business.”

                “I bet she’s into some real kinky shit, too,” Connor said and he began to approach Wes, who backed up and landed on the bed.

                “Connor, what are you doing?”

                “Shh…” Connor said and smirked his wolfish smirk as he hovered over Wes. Connor hear an audible swallow from the other boy and _bingo_ , he was in. Their mouths met with more tooth than lip and a small part of him wondered if this was why Professor Keating liked Wes so much, holy shit. And suddenly, Connor was removing Wes’ tie and they were pressed against the headboard and Wes just raised his arms willingly as Connor started to bite down his neck.

                He whined as the tie began to wrap around his hands.

                “Forget about Rebecca for now,” Connor whispered. _And the lies, and the death_ , he wanted to say, but he choked it back.

#

                He never thought that one day Frank would be mercilessly rimming him over a desk but you know, Connor always pegged Frank as the bisexual sort and _by god_ did he seem to have experience with this type of activity.

                And suddenly, Connor didn’t give a fuck if Laurel was fucking him. In fact, the next time he saw Laurel he thought that maybe he should tell her all the wonderful things Frank’s tongue could do, if she didn’t already know.

                But, just as it would if it had been with Laurel instead of him, Frank would have to lie about it.

                Lies. Sex. Lies. Sex.

#

                Why did it always come back to one of those?

                Lies. Sex. Death. Lies. Sex. Death. Lies. Sex. Death. Lies. Sex. Death. Lies. Sex. Death. Lies. Death. Lies. Death. Lies. Death. Lies. Death.

                Death.

**Author's Note:**

> the frank one takes place in some little time bubble, and idk when wes' takes place honestly.
> 
> i take writing requests at dwightfryes.tumblr.com


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